live for greatness

in November…

“In November, people are good to each other. They carry pies to each other’s homes and talk by crackling woodstoves, sipping mellow cider. “

In November, the smell of food is different. It has an orange smell. A squash and pumpkin smell. It tastes like cinnamon and can fill up a house in the morning, can pull everyone from bed in a fog. Food is better in November than any other time of the year.

In November, the earth is growing quiet. It is making its bed, a winter bed for flowers and small creatures. The bed is white and silent, and much life can hide beneath its blankets.

In November, some birds move away and some birds stay. The air is full of good-byes and well-wishes.

I just loved Cynthia Rylant’s poem and felt the need to share it with you guys.

The poem describes exactly how I feel about the coldish month of November.